


Sleepless

by GoldenDaydreams



Series: United, We Stand [1]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Brotp, Clary Fray & Alec Lightwood Friendship, Clary ships Malec, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Parabatai Bond, Post-Finale, friendship feels, post- 1x13
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-30
Updated: 2016-05-07
Packaged: 2018-06-05 12:21:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6704416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoldenDaydreams/pseuds/GoldenDaydreams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Takes place a week after the events of 1x13. Alec and Clary learn to lean on one another.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The punching bag took the abuse. The force of the fists knocked it back, and rocked forward again only to be hit with a spinning roundhouse kick. Alec’s form was as close to perfect as anyone could get. For the last hour he’d attempted to force his frustration out of his system, to wear out his body to the point where he might actually be able to sleep, and still maintained form with rigid control.

A week had passed since Jace had gone through the portal with Valentine. A week since he’d been near his Parabatai. A week since Jocelyn Fairchild had been awoken. A week since he’d spoken to Magnus. A week since he’d had a decent night of rest. At most, he’d managed a couple hours here and there, but for the most part his restless mind and body refused to let him sleep.

Both hands shot out, steadying the punching bag as well as himself. Legs shaking, muscles weakened by the miles he’d ran earlier, he leaned heavily on the bag trying to catch his breath. He sucked in air through his nostrils, and breathed out to a four count through his mouth, slowing his breathing back to normal.

The scream hit his system like a fresh shot of adrenaline. He jolted straight up, hands balling into fists. Eyes immediately went to where the noise had come from, but his mind caught up long before his eyes did.   _Clary._ Her big green eyes searched the immediate area. Her hands through her hair, and then scrubbed over her face. He’d noticed her earlier, she’d fallen asleep over her sketchbook, and since she looked like she hadn’t slept since Jace had gone either, he’d let her be.

He found himself gravitating toward her. Maybe because in those last moments before Jace had gone, he’d felt his Parabatai’s concern, his overwhelming need to protect Clary, to protect all of them, through the bond. Or perhaps it was because she, being Jace’s sister, was the closest Alec could currently get to him. “Clary?” he said softly, not wanting to startle her. “Are you okay?”

She glanced up from her sketchbook sheepishly. “Yeah, I’m sorry.” She glanced around again. “I’m surprised I didn’t wake anyone up.”

“Soundproofing, we don’t want to be waking other Shadowhunters when we’re training or working,” Alec explained. It was odd, however, that the wide open work space of the Institute was so empty. Of course, it was three in the morning, and most sane people who weren’t currently out on missions, were in bed. He scratched his chin, realizing he hadn’t shaved in a few days, he couldn’t find it in himself to care. “You should get some sleep.”

“I’ve tried. I keep having these awful nightmares.” She shook her head. “I just can’t. I thought maybe I drawing would relax me…”

He glanced at the paper, and knows that last image of Jace isn’t burned into just his memory. He cleared his throat. His hand absentmindedly rubs over his Parabatai rune, it aches, the distance between them too far for comfort. The dark circles under Clary’s eyes make Alec worry. “You _need_ rest, Clary.”

“So do you,” she said.

Shoulders shifted in a lazy shrug. He couldn’t really argue with that. Pulling out a chair, he sat down next to her. “Tell me about the nightmares.” When she looked puzzled, he tried his best to put on a comforting smile. “I have younger siblings. It seems that talking about nightmares makes them lose their power.”

Clary flipped a page in her sketchbook, and picked up another pencil. “Lately, it’s been the same. We’ve found the Grey Book. But Valentine’s men are there, and they’ve got their weapons on everyone but Jace.” She paused, and Alec remained silent, allowing her to work through the dream in her own time. As she spoke, she drew. He couldn’t yet make out what it would be, but followed the line the pencil created. She paused, stared at him a moment, and then returned to drawing. “Jace goes through the portal first, looking back at all of us, for just a second before he’s gone. And then-“ she stopped speaking, but continues the sketch, her hand moving faster than before, like she’s frantic to get the image out. “And then-“ she said again, before losing her nerve, hand never ceasing her drawing for a second. The image is forming, and Alec is surprised by the pain an image can portray.

The center of the picture forming is an image of Alec himself. Eyes wide, with a horrific blend of terror and surprise. Mouth just slightly agape, throat slit, dark graphite serving as blood. The sight chills him to the core. She moved faster, like a woman possessed. The other figures behind him take form, Izzy with that same wide eyed terror, Simon, Magnus- each with a blade through their heart. It took him a few minutes to shake off the chill that had settled in his bones from just looking at the image.

“And then,” Clary said, a tremor in her voice. “Valentine’s men kill you all anyway.”

He noticed then that she was crying, fat tears rolled over her cheeks. Just as he did when Izzy was four and came crying into his room, scared of the possibilities of demons under her bed, he caught Clary’s face between his hands and brushed the tears away with his thumbs. “And what happens to you?” he whispered.  

“Valentine.” She swallowed hard, trying to push forward. “He steps over your body, and he has his blade in hand, and I just have the book. And everything was for nothing. I failed. I let everyone down. Everyone died because of me. And Valentine just draws back, blade in hand, and then… And then I wake up.” She sniffled, and glanced up at him through her tear darkened lashes. “Silly mundane dreams, right?”

“No.” The one word brought surprise to her eyes. Alec brushed his thumb over her cheekbone once more before letting his hands fall back to his lap. “We all get nightmares from time to time. While Jace is gone, everyone else is okay. Your mom is awake. Simon is alive… or, well, in a manner of speaking-“ she did a little half sob-laugh, and it made him smile. For day’s he’d felt useless, but this small task helped heal wounds he didn’t know he carried. “Izzy is fine, Magnus… is fine. I’m fine. We’re here for you. You don’t have to go through this alone.” He frowned slightly. “I know I’ve given you a hard time, and you haven’t had the same upbringing, and I… do tend to lose patience with you, but… my sister is right. You’re one of us. I’ll have your back, Clary.”

A small, but genuine smile tugged at her lips. “Thank you.”

He nodded. “Come on, let’s both attempt to get some sleep.”

Keeping her shorter stride in mind, he slowed his pace so she could naturally keep up. “May I ask you something?” she asked.

“Sure,” he replied.

“The Parabatai bond, I know you would track Jace if you could use it to find him, but can you sense him? Even a little bit?”

Again, he rubbed his hand over the rune. “He’s alive.”

She grabbed his arm. “You know! Is he okay? Can he communicate with you?”

In that moment, she reminded him of Max. “We’re not telepaths, although through the bond we can… sense each other. It’s most useful in battle. He’s too far to sense anything now.”

“But he’s okay.”

He wanted to comfort her, but couldn’t lie. “He’s alive.”

“You keep saying that-“

“At this distance, that’s all I know.” He could feel his patience wearing thin. After all, he harboured guilt for being unable to protect his Parabatai. “I would feel his life leave this world if he were to die. He’s alive.” He ran his hand through his hair. “That has to be enough.”

She tripped, and his instincts kicked in immediately. His arm shot out, grabbed her bicep and rebalanced her as her sketchbook and pencil case hit the floor. “Sorry, I’m such a klutz,” she murmured, annoyed with herself, exhausted, and sad all at once.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, bending down to grab the book that had fallen open in front of him, only to pause and stare. The pencil recreated her memories perfectly. He and Jace stood face to face, hands clasped, eyes staring at each other as they used Parabatai tracking.

Clary’s hair tickled his arm as she crouched down beside him. “I’m quite proud of this one,” she admitted. He passed the book to her, and was shocked that she took to the task of carefully ripping the page out. “Here,” she said, passing it to him. “I think you should have it.”

He almost touched Jace’s face, the longing almost painful, but he doesn’t want to blur the image with his carelessness. Instead, he managed a tight-lipped smile. “Thank you.”

They manage to get her to her room without dropping anything again. Alec stood awkwardly, the picture in one hand, and he gestured to his door across the hall and down one door with his free hand. “You know where my room is if you need anything.”

She nodded. “Good night.”

“Sweet dreams.”


	2. Chapter 2

The water pressure needed to be fixed. Alec had half the mind to figure out how to do it himself, but showering at the end of the day, or after being exhausted by a mission, he never actually gets around to it, or mentioning it to anyone else. The water started to run cold and his annoyance grew by the second. As he leaned to turn the shower off, he heard something. Loud, pitched. He slammed the lever down, and the water stopped. He stood there, naked, water cooling quickly as it trailed down his body, but doesn’t hear the sound again. _You’re losing it, Lightwood._ He grabbed the towel and dried off before wrapping it around his waist.

After the intense workout, the chat with Clary all on top of a weeks’ worth of exhaustion, he felt ready to crash. If he had anything, anything at all to go on, he’d stay up and work that lead into the ground, or until it brought him information on Jace. Nothing. They had nothing, and he couldn’t keep slamming his head against the same dead-ends. Maybe with a clearer mind he’d be able to see something they’ve all missed. He pulled on his clothes, a well-worn tight black t-shirt, and a pair of grey sweatpants.

He pushed open the door to the ensuite bathroom, and made a beeline for his bed. Exhaustion wrestled with his guilt. He’d sworn an oath, and it felt unnatural to be this far from Jace, felt like he was missing a part of himself. Thinking about his Parabatai seemed to make the rune ache more. Laying on his back, he closed his eyes, trying to let go of the overwhelming desire to fix everything.

While he had nothing to go on with Jace, he couldn’t deny that he could do something about Magnus. _But do I really want to?_ Walking in on Camille kissing Magnus had stung. _Well, that’s overly downplayed._ Stung sounded like a bee sting, something easily gotten over. He’d tried his best to act unaffected, but it shook his confidence to the core. These romantic feelings were new. He enjoyed the look of Jace, and with some clarity that came with kissing Magnus, Alec knew that he’d confused what he felt for his Parabatai for love. _No, it is love, just not the romantic kind,_ Alec thought. A brotherhood, a friendship from childhood, a bond that was actually inked permanently into their skin.

 _But then there is Magnus. Stop thinking about him. Stop it. Sleep. Rest, maybe have the enough of a brain to figure out how to find Jace in the morning… later in the morning. Sleep._ Magnus’s slow, slightly mischievous smile came to mind, golden cat-eyes flashing. Even though his eyes are already shut, Alec grabbed the other pillow and pulled it over his face.

Two taps on the door, and he shoved the pillow off. Sitting up, his hand found the dagger on the night table effortlessly in the dark. The light from the hallway flooded his room, and it took a moment for his eyes to adjust. The figure in the doorway had a red halo of messy curls, and wore a too big t-shirt (he’d bet it’s Jace’s,) and blue plaid pajama pants. “Clary?” he said. Belatedly, he realized the sound he’d heard when in the shower was Clary’s scream. “Still trouble sleeping?”

She slowly nodded. “Would you… would you mind if I…” she shook her head. “Forget it, I’m sorry.”

“You can stay here,” he said. When she blinked owlishly at him, he cleared his throat. “If that’s where you were going.”

“It was,” she admitted softly.

Instead of saying anything more, he simply lifted the covers on the other side of the bed. She shut the door behind her, and he noticed for the first time that she carried a witchlight in her hand.

She settled in the bed beside him, both laying on their back, shoulder to shoulder. By the witchlight she still has in her hand, he can see a ghost of a small smile working at her lips. “Simon and I used to do this,” she said in a soft whisper. “We spent an afternoon making constellations in glow in the dark stars on my ceiling. That night we laid shoulder to shoulder staring up at our work. It was nice. We ate junk food, and talked about nothing, and everything.”

It seemed to him that telling stories of happier times soothed her. “I understand,” he said his voice a low whisper. “Izzy used to come to my room all the time when she was younger.” A smile tugged at his lips. “Usually when she’d gotten herself into trouble with mom.”

“Did that happen frequently?” Clary asked.

“More than enough.” Alec smiled at one particular memory, and after a minute, decided to share it. “Once, I was in the middle of training with a featherstaff in my bedroom when Iz came running in.” He almost laughed. “She had eye shadow up to her eyebrows.”

Clary’s smile widened to show teeth. “No.”

“Yes! And her cheeks were unnaturally red… and then there was the lipstick!” He lost his control and burst out laughing. “At six, Izzy wasn’t so good at colouring inside the lines.”

Clary laughed with him. “Did Izzy get into trouble?”

“Yeah. Later. Mom had come in looking for her, but Iz had already hidden under my bed, and I just said I hadn’t seen her. Izzy was grateful, but that didn’t get her out of punishment.”

“That’s such a mundane little girl thing to get in trouble for,” Clary said.

“Did you do it?” Alec wondered out loud.

“A few times. Mom was pretty tolerant about it. Sometimes, we would have a real girly day and she’d let me play with her hair, and paint her nails. At six, I _was_ pretty good at staying inside the lines. A few times, I’d even rope Luke in, and paint his nails too.”

Alec laughed. It thought it would be hard to picture the werewolf sitting around and letting a little girl paint his nails. The more he thought about it, the easier it was to see. One could be blind and still see the love Luke had for Jocelyn, and for Clary. They were a family, and Alec was a man who could understand doing anything for family.

“I envy you,” Clary whispered. “The close relationship you have with Izzy.” She bit her lip, and tears practically glowed in the witchlight. “I always wanted a brother.” She swiped angrily at her eyes with the back of her hand. “Be careful what you wish for, right?”

The girl couldn’t catch a break. Her entire life had been flipped. She was a mundane, or at least lived as one. She knew nothing of demons, nothing of the Nephilim, nothing of the world that lived alongside her own. Just another oblivious mundie. She’d wished for normal things, like family, like education, like friendship. Now, she saw the world for what it really is. She’d fought valiantly, perhaps her form could use work, she’d gotten lucky more than once, but he couldn’t fault her bravery, nor her compassion.

“When he’s back, you guys will figure it out,” Alec said. It didn’t really cover the horror she had to feel by finding out the young man she’d fallen in love with was actually her brother, but it was the best Alec could come up with.

“One thing at a time,” she agreed quietly, swiping a rogue tear. “You smell like Jace, you know?” Her face scrunched up. “That sounded creepy. I meant, it’s comforting, but I… yeah, I should have kept that to myself.”

He smirked. “Institute issue soap.”

She laughed. “That explains it.”

They remain quiet for a little while. For a minute, he even thought she’d nodded off. Instead, her head shifted slowly, rolling to face him, and he turned to look at her. “He doesn’t feel like my brother.”

It felt like a stone had settled in his stomach. He didn’t know what to say to that. His hand grazed over the parabatai rune again. He remembered the first few days of having it, how strange it was to feel so connected through it. After the bond took hold, he remembered Jace trailing after a young Isabelle, watching over her like a hawk, teaching her, becoming closer to her than ever. Jace’s bond with Isabelle mirrored his own. _‘She’s your sister. So she’s my sister. I’ll protect her.’_

Luckily, romantic feelings get filtered out through the bond, but he understood that Jace’s adoration for Clary was pure. And more, Clary didn’t feel like a _sister,_ she felt like a friend, like something more. He’d fought it, initially, when Clary first came to them. He didn’t want to like her, maybe because he knew how Jace felt right from the get-go. They’d been drawn together as if by gravity.

“Maybe Valentine lied,” Alec found himself saying. He shouldn’t have. He saw her heart was broken. The heartbroken look is something he’s seen Isabelle wear many times before, and has become more personally acquainted with it in the mirror as of late.

She sniffled, the heel of her palm rubbing over her heart. “I want him home safe. Whatever else happens, or doesn’t happen, is real or not, we have to get him back, Alec.”

“We will,” Alec promised.

His phone made a ‘beep’ sound, indicating a text, and they both jumped. After they realized the location, they both laughed.

Alec rolled to his side to grab his phone from the side table. He never slacked from work, and it wasn’t like he had any friends outside of the insti-MAGNUS BANE. He swallowed hard as his heart rate kicked up. He held the phone in his hand, but didn’t unlock it, and watched as the screen went back into sleep mode.

“So… you’re not talking to him?” Clary asked.

He huffed out a breath. “I caught him kissing Camille.”

“From how Izzy tells it, Camille looked to be kissing him… and he wasn’t happy about it”

“They still have history. Magnus is immortal, I’m not. Not to mention he’s the ‘High Warlock of Brooklyn,’ if he wasn’t happy about it, he should have _done_ something about it.” He tossed his phone back to the night table, where it slid right off and hit the floor.

“Did you talk-“

“Yeah,” Alec muttered, running his hand through his already messy hair. “A bit, when we were checking the perimeter before Jace was taken. We still needed Camille, that’s why he didn’t make it a power show. Besides, he didn’t need to be starting a war between vampires and warlocks, which… that could have ignited. She kissed him. He didn’t want it. She’d done it to mess with my head.” A bitter laugh escaped his lips. “It worked. She pointed out my mortality, and… we’ll she’s right. Even if we do work out, I’ll die.”

“Or he will. He’s immortal, but that doesn’t mean he can’t be killed.”

The thought left Alec cold. “Was that supposed to make me feel better? Because it didn’t.”

Clary covered her mouth as she yawned. “Pain is the price you pay for love, and memories heal the wounds.”

Alec raised an eyebrow. “Are you into poetry or something?”

She smirked. “Read it in a bathroom stall once.”

He grinned, but it quickly faltered. “I like him.”

“I know.”

“I don’t want to hurt him,” he whispered, and yawned.  

“I know.”

“And I’m not really a fan of being hurt either. Physical wounds I can deal with, this-“

“Love has a learning curve.”

He shifted a bit, trying to get comfortable. “More bathroom wisdom?”

Clary smiled, even as she clearly fought her eyes to stay awake. “No, just something I’ve been learning myself.”

“What do you think I should do?” he whispered. The walls he carried were down as he barely won the fight against sleep.

“Call him in the morning. Get breakfast.” Her eyes fell shut, as the last words muttered out of her mouth, “Be happy.”

The overwhelming fondness for Clary had nothing to do with the Parabatai bond. These were feelings all his own. Still, his hand rested over the his rune as he looked at her. “She’s your sister,” the words felt like a lie on his tongue, but he continued, “So she’s my sister. I’ll protect her.” And with the quiet promise to his Parabatai whispered, he closed his eyes.

 

 

And with the comfort of the other close by, side by side, they finally fell asleep.


End file.
